


Home Sweet Home

by MileyCyprus_Hill



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Red Dead Redemption 2, rdr2 - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Foreplay, Love, Modern AU, NSFW, Romance, Smut, follow up to coming home, lovemaking, modern arthur morgan, rdr2 modern au, shower make out, you show him how much you missed him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 07:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22232152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MileyCyprus_Hill/pseuds/MileyCyprus_Hill
Summary: This is the NSFW follow-up to “Coming Home”.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character(s), Arthur Morgan/Reader, Arthur Morgan/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 67





	Home Sweet Home

Your secluded home was abuzz with gleeful cheer at the patriarch’s return. The four of you sat around the pinewood dining table, chatting as if you hadn’t seen Arthur in months. Those two weeks without him had sure dragged on, it felt like an eternity.

Various praises were said by Arthur as the children presented him with their academic achievements: your son’s recent win at the school spelling bee, and your daughter’s adorable drawing of herself riding her horse with Arthur leading it. His signature hat was colored in near precision with crayon. Arthur smiled at the drawing, admiring her eye for detail.

Seeing him swell with pride, you remind him, “She’s just like you.”

Arthur chuckles in humble amusement, “Yeah,” he grunts as he grasps your daughter from her chair with both hands and places her in his lap, “Soon honey, you’ll be a real artist. And you’ll be much better than me.”

Your daughter responds critically, “No, I won’t. I’m terrible.” She looks down at her drawing, examining every crude line on the paper.

“Aw, now don’t say that,” Arthur encourages, bouncing her on his knee. “Just keep practicin’ and doin’ what you’re doin’. You’ll get there.”

He attempts to bring her attention away from her drawing and back to him. When she doesn’t, Arthur wraps his arm around her in a tight hug and blows a raspberry onto her cheek. She bursts into giggles and the pair of them laugh joyously until Arthur grabs his hat from the table and places it on her head.

Your daughter’s face immediately contorts at the damp sensation coming from the inner band of his hat.

“Ew! It’s all sweaty!” She yells, quickly removing his hat from her head.

Arthur responds with a booming laugh, which grows infectious as you and your son chortle alongside him.

Placing the hat back on the table, Arthur responds, “Aw, I’m sorry sweetheart.”

While you sit at the table, you fail to notice how quickly the hour had gone. A timid chime rings from the clock high on the wall. You let out a gasp, turning in your chair to look at the clock, its hands marking six o’clock.

“Oh, shoot.” You reply to the final chime of the clock.

You forgot to start dinner.

Leaping from your chair, you had gone to the sink to where you left the meat to de-thaw. Grabbing the meat, you scramble to get dinner started. You ask the kids to set the table, to which Arthur responds by helping you cook an efficient meal.

As quickly as the dinner was made, the time spent enjoying it was quicker. The four of you hadn’t realized how ravenous you were until you each placed a fork in your mouths and scarfed down your meal.

Tonight you made sure to make extra for Arthur. The man never leaves the dinner table without seconds. It’s astounding how he keeps his weight steady while engorging himself every night with your home cooked meals. How he hasn’t gained a pound, you’re still unsure.

“Y’know. When was the last time we got to spend some quality time together?” Arthur asks quietly as he walks behind you, placing his dirty plate in the dishwasher next to you. His empty hand brushes against yours, the light contact unfaltering as he moves up your forearm. Your hips naturally turn towards him in response to his warm touch, your lips automatically turning up into a smirk.

Moving his lips closer to your face, he suggests, “Maybe, we can get a babysitter fer the weekend and uh—”

The sound of running footsteps out of the kitchen quickly stop him, and Arthur jerks his head to the source. The kids try to leave their dirty plates on the table and run to the living room to play.

“Hey, hey!” Arthur barks, stopping the kids in their tracks. The loud and deep resonance in his voice vibrates through your chest, sending a startling but pleasurable jolt to your heart. Your eyes stay planted on his face, admiring his stern look.

“Help yer mama clear the table,” Arthur orders, pointing to their abandoned plates and discarded silverware. The kids abruptly turn to their places at the table and grab their plates, carrying them to the dishwasher.

You mouth a silent ‘thank you’ to Arthur, and he responds with a wink. You wouldn’t say the children were terrible at listening to you, but it’s nice to have Arthur’s masculine authority to help. You’re a little ashamed to admit that it turns you on, watching him get serious like that.

And he knows it.

He’s well aware of how your knees grow weak at the lowering of his voice. The pulse within your panties beating faster at that hot-blooded stare of his. He knows, and he loves to tease you with it. He’d catch you jumping slightly at his shouts from the corner of his eye, trying to hide his amused smirk at the sight of startling you.

Memories flash behind each blink of your eyelids: the midnight “maritals” you’d perform behind the locked bedroom door. Arthur’s hot breath on your neck, his lips hovering over your pulse point. Those low, gravelly whispers into your ear, tantalizing you with such words that could fluster even the most lecherous woman.

Nightfall approaches and it’s nearly bedtime. Your son had gotten a ride to a friend’s house to spend the night, so you’re left with just your daughter to put to bed. Exhausted from the excitement of welcoming Arthur home, she yawns from her spot on the couch, trying her hardest to keep her tired eyes open. Throughout the evening, you catch Arthur staring at you from his spot on the couch, silently reminding you how much he’s missed you.

Arthur carries your little girl to bed while you trail behind him. She wakes with a stir as soon as her head hits the pillow. Both you and Arthur hold back huffs of frustration as you desperately want her to sleep.

“Will you read me a story?” She asks.

Turning to Arthur, you offer, “Here, I’ll do it. You go hop in the shower.”

He quirks a brow in response to your suggestion, “You sayin’ I stink?”

“To be honest, yeah. You smell like horse.” You state. A small giggle rises from the bed, and Arthur bids your daughter ‘good night’ with a forehead kiss.

It didn’t take long for your daughter to fall asleep. You were only a few pages in her storybook when she fell into a deep slumber. With a breath of relief, you brush her hair from her eyes and shut off the lamp on her nightstand.

The familiar sound of water clapping against tile hits your eardrums as soon as you enter the master bedroom. A soft light glows through the space at the bottom of the bathroom door. Closing your bedroom door behind you, you step across your shadowed room to the entrance of the master bathroom. The sanctuary of your home, the bathroom. With the only entrance leading from your shared room, it provides the seclusion and privacy you both crave.

You’re greeted with the heavenly aroma of Arthur’s favorite body wash wafting through the dense clouds of steam. The moisture in the air hits your face and you feel your skin flush from the heat. The steam begins to clear as it escapes through the open door. Arthur’s naked form stands blurred behind the etched glass, seemingly unaware of your presence. Despite the opacity of the glass door, you can still make out each curve and definition of his muscles. By memory through years of gazing upon him, your eyes travel from his rounded biceps to his supple buttocks, his chiseled thighs and— _oh my._

It’s a sight you never grow tired of. With just a slight pivot of Arthur’s hips, you catch that familiar appendage hanging down. Its flaccid length bounces ever so slightly from his body. Suddenly, Arthur’s hand moves downwards from his chest. He gently grasps his thick member and lightly strokes it. A slight huff escapes him and becomes audible from behind the shower glass, echoing upwards as the sound waves bounce off the marbled walls.

Taking that as your cue, you undress, stepping out of your clothes that have now pooled onto the floor. The tile feels cold beneath your bare feet and the metal door handle is slick in your grip from the humidity. Delicately opening the door, you peer inside to find Arthur’s back to you. He notices the cold air on his wet skin from the open door and turns to you as you briskly step in.

With his flushed cheeks and dripping hair, Arthur smiles. His eyes scan up and down your naked flesh, examining each lovely curve of your body. Two beautiful children came from that magnificent body. How is it you managed to stay so gorgeous, he wonders? You’re more beautiful now standing before him than you were when you two first met.

“Hey there,” he greets you adoringly. You detect that familiar lustful tone in his voice. “Is she asleep?” He asks you, grasping you by your hips and pulling you closer to him. His calloused hands never leave your luscious skin, moving from your hips to your buttocks and up your spine. Your pelvises are mere centimeters apart.

“Out like a light,” you respond, closing the gap between you. Your forearms rest upon his rigid shoulders, your fingers interlocking behind his head with slacked wrists.

Arthur closes the gap further by jutting his head forward, pressing his wet lips against yours. “Good,” he answers.

Your bodies press against each other as close as physically possible. Your breasts squeeze against his rugged pecs and you feel a poke against your pubic bone.

Your heart races and the pulsing in your southern region grows, rushing with the blood in your veins with each contraction of your heart. Arthur senses your arousal, watching your eyelids flutter at the feeling of his cock pressed against you.  
You speak in a breathy whisper that’s barely audible through the rushing water of the shower head.

“Hard already?” You ask.

He chuckles, bringing his lips close to your ear.

“I just can’t stop thinkin’ about you,” he says, rubbing his appendage gently.

You tease, brushing the tips of your fingers down his wet stomach, “And were you gonna please yourself…without me?” You tsk with a lustful grin.

His eyes are hooded with desire, watching the expression on your face. He smirks mischeviously, the gears in his head working to come up with a witty response. It seems most of the blood has drained down south, hindering all mental efficiency. He’s left with just one thing on his mind.

He steps forward, wrapping his arms around you completely. Lips crashing against yours, he forces his tongue into your mouth, greedily taking what’s his. You can barely hold back a moan as the tips of your tongues lap against each other. Arthur grasps your buttocks in each hand, aggressively massaging your cheeks, grabbing them as if he’s trying to fit an entire cheek in one hand.  
You’re slightly distracted by his tongue darting in and out of your mouth. An occasional nip of your lip between his teeth sends a purr from your throat, like a hungry cat. Suddenly, you feel a fingertip slip itself into the small opening of your vagina.

The contact between your lips is broken by a sharp gasp as you lift your head up to the ceiling. Arthur’s palm squeezes against your ass while he reaches further down to finger you. He wiggles his middle finger inside you, feeling your wet arousal.

Instinctively, you lift a leg to further open yourself to Arthur, only to have him slip his finger out and give a quick smack to your bottom. You let out the most sensual moan, exposing your neck to Arthur’s soft lips. His hand remains on your reddened cheek, kneading the soft flesh beneath his firm grip. His lips demand attention from yours as he kisses you. The other hand lays pressed against the center of your back, keeping you close to him so he can continue to devour you.

Time becomes nonexistent in that confined space of marble and glass. The outside world is shut out and all that remains is your two bodies intertwining in a standing mass of drenched flesh, surrounded by swirls of hot steam.  
You obey the hand that lightly pushes the outside of your hip, turning your back to Arthur.   
Bending over slightly, you place both hands on the marble wall to hold yourself steady. The warm water drizzles upon your backside, soothing your muscles.  
Arthur admires your form from behind. The way you bend over for him makes him want to grab you by your love handles and show you how much he’s desperately missed you.

_But why rush into it?_

He caresses your hips and your buttocks before steping forward closer to you. Your bare skin is slick and warm from the hot water as he moves his hands further down towards the back of your thighs. The tip of his cock rubs slightly in the crack off your buttocks, slipping up and down in your crevice.

Oh, how you desperately want him to take you. You cannot stand the foreplay much longer; the pulse in your vagina is beating frantically. Leaning back on your feet, you press your backside into Arthur, pushing his cock closer to your body.  
A lustful groan rumbles in his throat and he grips your love handles tightly. Leaning forward over your body, he whispers to you.

“How’s about we head to bed?” He suggests.

You don’t say a word, but instead straighten your back and turn to face him. You press a quick, wet kiss to his lips before stepping outside the shower.

The pair of you waste no time in drying yourselves off, still dripping as you walk to your king-sized bed. The air feels cold against your wet body and the sight of the warm bed is so inviting. You crawl into it first, not bothering to draw back the blankets.

This is no time for cozying. It’s playtime.

The blankets begin to dampen from your moistened skin, but you don’t care. You’re too focused on the work of art that stands before you, glistening in the amber light of your lamp. Arthur’s chiseled pecs rise with each breath, his chest hair clinging to his skin. You swear you can still see steam rising from his heated body, like a stallion after an exhausting run in frigid snow.  
He joins you on the bed, towering over you as you lay on your back, his arms at both sides of your head. You lay in his comforting cage surrounding you, yearning to be one with him again. You spread your legs open to invite him closer to you, wrapping them tightly around his hips.

You feel his cock is close, so close to you now. On the first try, he perfectly sheathes himself inside you. The two of you move your hips in silent rhythm, trying your best to keep your eyes open but the pleasure is so immense. The silence is broken with irregular breaths and moans. Arthur’s filling you up so tremendously it causes you grip to his back tightly, feeling the muscles of his shoulder blades flex. Moving your hands towards his hips, you feel the power behind his thrusts: his gluteus maximus, gluteus medius, and hamstrings, all contracting into rock-hard states in each languid thrust. He’s reserved his full potential to pound into you—a moment he’ll wait ‘til later when you’re close. 

As you grasp his buttocks to guide him further inside you, Arthur can’t hold back his ragged moans.

“I missed this so much,” he says, “I missed these.” Your silky breasts are molded in his soft grip as he squeezes them gently. You gasp softly in ecstasy when he brings his lips to your left areola, gently lapping at your nipple with the tip of his tongue.

In a seductive hush, you whisper, “I’ve missed it too.” The warm, wet sensation on your nipples recedes when Arthur lifts his head to look at you. Gazing into his bright blue eyes you tell him, “I’ve missed you so much.” Your inner brows rise in the memory of your heartache, selfishly wishing he’d never leave again. 

Noticing your subtle expressions, Arthur presses his forehead against yours. Oh, how he hates to leave you behind, following whatever lead Dutch and Hosea send him on. He hates himself for being away from you, away from his children. He desperately wishes he could leave his old life behind instead of you. Instead of his family—his true family. 

“I missed you too,” he replies, cradling your head and passionately placing his lips upon yours. 

His pace quickens, and the sparks within you begin to flare. 

_Faster,_ you beg silently.

_Harder_

_Please._

You need not to articulate these pleas, as Arthur’s senses your desires. His thrusts grow in intensity, his stout cock filling you up. He presses into you as far as humanly possible, stretching your vaginal walls. 

But he too, wants more.

Straightening up and sitting back on his heels, he slips himself out of you, asking you to flip over for him. You happily accept and turn over on your knees, resting your weight on your forearms. 

“Touch yer self,” he respectfully commands, “I wanna feel you come.” 

You eagerly obey, moving your hand towards your clitoris. Drawing your natural lubricant from your vagina, you begin to touch yourself. Arthur places himself inside you once more, and the sensation is—of course—orgasmic. The angle makes him feel so much larger that you wonder if you can fit all of him inside you.

Two kids later and you still wonder that. What a lucky wife you are. 

You wish you could prolong this moment for eternity: the tingling from your clitoris, the contraction of your muscles against his cock as you squeeze him, his fingertips digging into your hips as he’s nearing his own orgasm.   
The wave draws closer to you now, and you feel his cock swell as he hastens his thrusts. 

The most glorious sound rumbles from his chest. His cock pulses inside you and you rub your clit faster, chasing your own orgasm. 

The two of you simultaneously whine in ecstasy. Arthur cums inside you with a few more harsh thrusts, feeling you squeeze against him so tightly. The final pulse of his cock pushes you into the wave of euphoria. You whine and wail as quietly as you can, but your orgasm is so extraordinary that you have to press your face into a pillow to stifle your cries.

Arthur finishes with his final moan through clenched teeth, his jaw tightening. He puts all of his weight into his final thrust, pushing you forward onto the bed. You both pant and moan softly as the dopamine and oxytocin surge through your brains. Arthur lays on top of you, pinning you to the bed but managing to still let you breathe comfortably under his weight. With his palms on top your hands, he interlaces his fingers with yours and breathes heavily onto your neck. 

“I love you,” he pants, gripping your hands tightly. He presses a kiss onto your neck below your ear, sending goosebumps to the surface of your skin. 

“I love you too,” you copy. 

Arthur’s heart flutters at your statement. He knows you still love him, and will always love him. But it’s nice to hear you say it; to dispel any doubts he may have. 

He still loves you. Always will, and will continue to tell you that for the rest of his days. 

Gazing at his left hand atop yours, he admires the beauty of your golden rings. The diamonds adorning your finger sparkle from below his simple honeyed band. Arthur is a simple man, not one for extravagancy, but he would embellish you with the rarest jewels and the finest silks if you so choose.

For you are his queen. Your strength matches his, you shine a light into his darkness, and you bow to no one.   
For a queen always protects her king.


End file.
